


Give It All

by Vhett



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vhett/pseuds/Vhett
Relationships: Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132





	Give It All

There's a routine to nights like this. Virgins may be hard to find on Staten Island, but horny idiots on dating apps are a dime a dozen. If they don't spook upon driving up to the obviously occult house, and if the topiaries draw them in rather than scare them off, Nandor has an easy meal. It's just like DoorDash, Guillermo thinks. Nandor will use Guillermo's phone to scroll through pictures, pick one he likes ("Italian tonight, master?"), Guillermo will provide the necessary incentivizing dirty talk to the victim via DM, and once the victim is on the doorstep they're easy enough for Nandor to hypnotize into the house and into his crypt.

So it's not uncommon that Guillermo finds himself outside Nandor's closed door, waiting to collect the body. The pattern: a short scream, maybe a brief scuffle, then a deep silence. Guillermo will check his watch, wait ten minutes, and then collect the body. It's one of the easier mealtimes, no big deal.

Or it shouldn't be. It really shouldn't be. 

Guillermo taps quietly on the door before turning the knob, calling softly: "Master?"

A deep groan answers him. This is part of the pattern too, and it sends a jolt of electricity down Guillermo's spine every time.  
  
He enters the crypt, leaving the door open behind him. Nandor's slouched on the floor, his long legs stretched out in front of him, still breathing heavily. The victim isn't far from him, crumpled and lifeless. 

"Was your meal satisfactory, master?" Guillermo asks gently as he moves toward the victim. Nandor's unsteady gaze slowly focuses on his face. 

Blood drunk. 

In the comfort of his own crypt and with no hurry on him, Nandor drinks long and deep. When he's like this, he's flushed, pliant, affectionate; it's awful. The victim's blood in him gives him an almost living glow. His lips are very red. The minimal candlelight flickers across his features, his gaze crushingly heavy.

Guillermo swallows, and Nandor's eyes follow the bounce of his adam's apple. 

"Too lean." Nandor slurs at long last. "Not very juicy." 

Guillermo's heart patters in his chest. He thinks: You could fix this, Nandor. You could fix all of this. 

"We can try a different site next time, master."

"Guillermo." Even Nandor's teeth are red. His mouth is smeared with blood and it looks like he's been violently kissed by someone in lipstick. "Come here."

Guillermo freezes. This is part of the routine too, but it's not getting easier. It's getting so, so much harder.

"Guillermo. Come here." He says it no louder but there's force behind it nonetheless, that invisible pressure at the base of his skull, the compulsion to obey.

"I should dispose of the body..." he protests, even as he steps toward his master, extends a hand to help him up off the floor. 

Nandor takes his hand but instead pulls it to his bloody lips, breathing deep and smearing red along Guillermo's wrist. The scratch of Nandor's beard tickles. Guillermo shudders, an involuntary tremor he can't suppress. Nandor places a wet kiss against the beat of his pulse and releases him. 

"Thank you, Guillermo," Nandor whispers, then wipes his mouth with the back of his forearm. 

"M-my pleasure, master." Guillermo heaves the victim into his arms and drags him out the crypt door, grateful for the excuse to escape, even though his heart is pounding and his dick aching. 


End file.
